


Agent Kirschtein Fucks Up

by funkmetalalchemist



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Eren is a good waiter and would make a better FBI agent than Jean, Jean is a terrible FBI agent and needs to get fired, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Waiters & Waitresses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 16:42:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2075457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funkmetalalchemist/pseuds/funkmetalalchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>FBI Agent Jean Kirschtein has to do some undercover work as a patron of a nice restaurant. He's trying to get his Serious Investigating done, but the cute waiter keeps distracting him.</p>
<p>DISCLAIMER: I'm a 20-year-old college student, how should I know how FBI operations work? All I know is, Jean would make a terrible undercover agent anyways, so this could be completely accurate for all I know. It's probably not, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Agent Kirschtein Fucks Up

This restaurant was the perfect camouflage. It was loud enough that he wouldn’t be overheard, but quiet enough that he could still listen in on a conversation two tables over - which is what Jean just happened to be doing.

“Hi, I’m Eren, I’ll be your server this evening. Anything I can get started for you?”

The waiter, college aged and probably not too well off financially, judging by his haircut, stood just beside his table with a uniform smile. He pulled his notepad out of his apron and shifted his feet, stepping just into Jean’s view of the table just across the dining hall, where four large beefy men, and one very petite woman were sitting and quietly discussing business.

“Just a cabernet sauvignon, please.” Anything to get this kid out of the way

The waiter eyed Jean warily. “ID, please?”

Jean raised an eyebrow at him, but took the ID out of his wallet without complaint. Jean may have only been 25 years old, but the look on that waiter kid’s face was still a little insulting. Jean was a fucking professional. Jean was working right now. Eren took it and shook the hair out of his eyes before pulling the card closer to his face. After a moment, he smiled again and handed the ID back to Jean.

“Alright, ‘Karl’, one cabernet sauvignon, up just in a second.” Jean didn’t like the way the waiter’s voice had thrown imaginary scare quotes around Jean’s alias. If someone had been tipped off that there was an agent here, Jean was in deep shit. The fact that there were already three people who had eyed him was a bad sign. He hoped it was just because the suit he was wearing tonight made him look exceptionally handsome.  _Maybe I should bail_ , he wondered absently as he began tapping his fingertips along the surface of the tablecloth. Jean turned his attention back to the men two tables down.

He had been given their profiles earlier on in the month and had been tracking them steadily and stealthily ever since. Each of them were suspected of having leading involvement in some sort of drug trafficking, and from what Jean had been able to figure out thus far, this dinner was a meeting to determine shipments. Jean never could understand why men involved in such disreputable activities would go out in public to broadcast their plans to the whole world. Probably because they didn’t think they would be broadcasting to the entire world. They probably chose to meet in the restaurant for the same reason Jean followed them in. It provided a thin veil of normalcy to cover any suspect activity. Like, for example, spying.

“Cute waiter,” came his partner, Marco’s voice through Jean’s earpiece. “What’d you order, a cabernet sauvignon? You know the agency’s paying for this dinner, why would you get the sauvignon? Get the pinot noir. Treat yourself.”

“I never said I got the sauvignon,” Jean mumbled as he played with his silverware. “Besides, focus up. We’re on the job right now.” Jean paused, before adding hastily, “And-and he’s not cute, he’s a kid.”

“You’re maybe three years older than him tops, Jean. Get his number.” Jean barely kept his face together at that one. He turned as casually as he could, pretending to appreciate the delicate gold crown molding, until his eyes met Marco’s where he sat at Jean’s 5 o’clock. When their eyes met, Marco shot him a subtle wink before calling over a waiter and gesturing toward his empty wine glass with his typical kind smile.

“Asshole,” he muttered, earning a small chuckle from Marco’s end of their comm. 

“Will the two of you pay attention to the fucking drug lords at table nine, please,” Levi’s voice came through to his ear, all static. Jean cringed. Levi was overseeing their operation through some security cameras in a van two blocks down. Levi had been an agent for who knew how long now, and was in charge of the more elite operations. Jean didn’t understand why he had been put in charge of a small thing like a drug ring outside of Philly, but Jean was getting paid pretty well for this gig so he wasn’t about to complain. Jean tilted his head to glance in the general direction of his targets, only to find his vision blocked by his waiter, Eren.

“Your cabernet sauvignon,” Eren offered as he uncorked the bottle. Jean ignored the snicker that came through his earpiece as Eren poured out a measure of the dark drink into his glass. Jean nodded with a polite smile and waited for Eren to leave. Eren wasn’t leaving.

“So,” Eren continued, “You here for a business or a date?”

“Hm?” Jean intoned.

“Well, people only really come here for business meetings or dates,” Eren explained, his ears turning red. “I figured it had to be one of those.”

“Mm, neither.” Jean replied distractedly. One of the men from two tables over had raised his voice slightly. Perhaps things weren’t going according to plan. Jean seriously contemplated bailing.

“Oh? So what are you here for, then?”

“Oh, it’s my, uh, my birthday.” Jean said the first thing he could think of and brought the wine glass up to his nose.

“No it’s not.”

Jean’s attention shot back to the table. Eren’s eyebrows were knitted and his eyes were flickering back and forth between Jean’s.

“Your birthday is November 5. It said so on your ID. Unless that wasn’t your ID that you just handed me.” Eren was starting to get too loud. Jean glanced around Eren and found no eyes on his table. He breathed a sigh of relief. Jean took a deep breath and put on his most charming smile.

“I’m sorry, Eren. It’s Eren, right? I know it’s not really my birthday. Sorry for lying like that. I just didn’t want to admit that I couldn’t get a date tonight. I probably look like a jackass, all dressed up for a nice dinner with myself.” Jean pouted up at Eren and found Eren’s ears just as red, and a sympathetic smile on his face. Exactly the look he was hoping for. His cover wouldn’t be blown after all.

“You don’t look like a jackass. You look fine. Sophisticated, even. Especially for an under-21.”

“I’m 25!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Eren laughed. So, the kid was actually sort of charming. “So, among the other lies on your license,” Eren smiled down at Jean, who tried to give a non-panic-stricken smile back before grabbing his freshly filled wine glass and practically tossing it back, “It also says you’re from out of town. What brings you to Philadelphia?”

“Work.” Jean would stick to the simple. No more getting caught up in lies.

“You’re not much of the sharing type, are you, Karl?” Eren laughed again. Pretty giggly for an on-the-job, waiter, actually.

“Oh my God, waiter guy is into you! Get his number!” Marco whisper-yelled through Jean’s earpiece. Jean scoffed mentally.

“Just feeling a little distracted tonight, I guess.” Jean glanced around Eren at Drug Table. One of the men was missing. Oh, God, the big guy was missing. The big guy left and Jean didn’t know where he was because he was too busy flirting with some college kid.

“Well, if it makes any difference, you’re a catch. Any girl would be lucky to have you.” What was this guy going on about? Oh, right, Jean’s excuse. Couldn’t get a date. Right.

“Oh, I, uh- thanks. Eren,” Jean added as an afterthought, glancing between Eren and the table whose conspicuous absence was probably over there killing Marco or something right now. Marco was probably already dead. Oh, Jesus Christ what had he done.

“The fat one is taking a shit, Kirschtein. Don’t blow cover.” Levi’s low, bored voice came through his comm. Thank God. Jean was going to do, like, twenty Hail Marys when he got home. Jean tried to readjust his earpiece as inconspicuously as possible, and then turned his head up to beam at Eren.

“Oh, wow, is that some kind of hearing aid? My sister is deaf.” Eren’s hands moved in intricate patterns that Jean assumed was sign language. Jean barely stopped himself from flat-out smacking himself in the face. As cute as he was, Eren was a fucking idiot.

“Yeah, I just have some trouble hearing in this ear. Sorry to say the most I know in sign language is the alphabet and ‘penis,’” Jean said in an attempt of lightheartedness, putting his left index finger to his right wrist and flicking his right index finger as means of demonstration. Eren gave an uncertain chuckle. Were that kid’s ears ever not red?

“So, do you know what you’re ordering yet?”

“No, I haven’t had the opportunity to look at the menu, yet, really. Would you mind giving me a minute?”

“Sure thing, I’ll be back in a few minutes. Just wave me over if you have any questions or if you’re ready to order.” Eren skipped away and Jean took the opportunity to sneak a glance at his ass. _Not bad_.

“We’re witnessing the beginnings of true love here. Should I have my waiter send you and your waiter a bottle of noir?” Marco joked.

“Are you even trying to hide the fact that you’re wired right now?” Levi demanded angrily. “Both of you shut up and pay attention. This is a mission, not a fucking dinner party.”

Jean rolled his eyes and looked at his menu. This was hardly high stakes. Jean contemplated the salmon with mushroom sauce. Sounded fair enough. Jean knew nothing about wine and food pairing, but he was hungry.

Jean glanced to Drug Table. The big one was still in the bathroom, it seemed. _Oh well, might as well order._

Jean looked around the dining room for Eren’s brown tussled hair. Where was he? Then, finally, Jean spotted him, and his heart froze.

Eren was standing in front of the large man from two tables over, his eyes wide and terrified and pleading, and making direct eye contact with Jean. Judging by their posture, there was a weapon at Eren’s back. The man leaned forward and whispered something in Eren’s ear, then steered Eren out of a side exit.

“Big guy’s taken Eren hostage into the alley at my 8 o’clock, cover possibly blown. Probably blown. I’m moving in. Marco, you got my back?” Jean whispered quickly and clearly, taking inventory of his situation. He had a gun strapped to his ankle but doubted he would be able to take it out in the restaurant before he made his way outside. Jean grabbed the steak knife at his table and tucked it into his sleeve, slicing at his palm in the process. He hardly felt it. His heart was pounding and his vision was sharp, sharper than ever. He had only been doing this for a year now, he was still a kid, how was he supposed to know what to do in this situation?

Despite the clarity of his vision (which now showed each of the four men glancing periodically at Jean – he was so stupid, he should have noticed), Jean’s hearing was muffled. He knew that Marco and Levi were talking to him, Levi probably yelling, but all Jean knew was that he had to get to that door, had to save that poor, bone-headed kid.

Jean shoved himself up and walked at a swift pace toward the side door. He wove through the tables, narrowly avoiding crashing into more than a few patrons, until he finally reached the exit. Jean let the knife’s handle fall into his hand and gripped it tight, before leaning into the door and opening it with a shove against his side.

The scene knocked the breath out of him.

Eren, tears running down his face, glanced at Jean only briefly as he passed through the door, before they turned back to the pistol that was flush against his temple.

“Please, please, I don’t even know this guy,” Eren begged with a loud sniff.

“Can it, kid,” the man growled at Eren, shoving the barrel of the gun into Eren’s head, gripping his neck with his other hand. Eren cried out.

“What do you want?” Jean demanded, keeping his voice even.

“Who are you working for? I know you’re working for someone. FBI?” So Jean’s cover had been blown. God, he had royally fucked this investigation.

“What made you suspect me?”

“You keep glancin’ at us, the night we’re about to arrange our biggest shipment of the year. You’ve got a fake ID. You’re wired. I’m not dumb. I know a fed when I see one. So, what, are you, DEA, FBI?”

“FBI. Agent Jean Kirschtein.” Jean took a step to try and maneuver the man against a wall. The man responded with another shove against the gun trained on Eren.

“Stay where you are. I’m calling the guys out here. Feds on our asses, we’re getting the hell out of here…” The man mumbled and trailed off as he took his free hand off of Eren’s throat to take a cellphone out of his pocket. As he stared at the glowing screen, Jean took his chance.

He caught Eren’s wide green eyes and nodded. Eren pursed his lips in response. When he was sure Eren was paying attention, Jean carefully mouthed the words, “Count. Of. Three. You. Duck.”

Eren opened his mouth to reply, but with a glance back at the man, closed it. He gave a slow, deliberate nod.

Jean began the countdown.

“One,” he mouthed, nodding with each word. “Two. Three.”

Eren ducked. Before the man had a chance to react and readjust his gun, Jean reared his arm back and flung the steak knife, hitting the man in the shoulder. The man yelled out in pain and his gun fell to the ground with a clatter. Eren, who had fallen to the ground, scrambled away toward Jean, who was reaching down to his ankle for his gun. Just as his fingertips grazed the cool steel, he was stopped.

“Freeze.” The man yelled from across the alley. His uninjured arm had raised the gun against Jean, now, right into his eyes. “Take your hands off the gun, and put ‘em over your head.”

“That’s my line.”

Two quiet “pop!” noises came from farther back in the dark alleyway, and suddenly, the man was bleeding out of each shoulder. The sound of a silenced gun.

“That’s bleeding a lot. I hope you didn’t hit any arteries. We still have to take him in for questioning,” Jean spoke to Levi, who was approaching the man who was slowly bleeding out, as he helped Eren to his feet.

“Probably. Not necessarily, though. Marco, Petra and Auruo are in there right now arresting the other four. We’re almost done here. Gonna be a hell of a lot of paperwork, though.”

“What is happening?” Eren cried out. He almost sounded angry. Levi laughed and Jean glared at him.

“My name is Agent Jean Kirschtein. I work for the FBI. We were investigating this man and the men having dinner with him on suspicion that they were involved in a drug trafficking ring. Which, apparently, they were. This man is Captain Levi Ackerman, head of this investigation. And if it would not be too much trouble, I’d like to take you out on a date.”

“What? I- now?” Eren looked absolutely baffled.

“Actually, no, we still have to ask a few questions about what you witnessed tonight. You’re probably not going to get home for a while. Let’s go let your boss know you’re leaving.” Jean threw an arm over the shoulders of the entirely bewildered Eren, who absently hooked his arm around Jean’s waist in return.

When they entered the restaurant again, the patrons seemed to have mostly left, and policemen were entering the building. Petra, Auruo and Marco were all dealing with the men from the Drug Table. Marco had a perp leaned over a table, handcuffing him carefully. Once the man’s wrists were secured, Marco looked up and met Jean’s eyes, before wiggling his eyebrows and shooting him a thumbs-up. Jean very discreetly and gracefully flipped him off. He turned back to Eren, who was still shaking. He was probably in shock. Jean rubbed at his shoulder and tried to think of something to talk about until the ambulance got there. His eyes fell on the abandoned bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon on his old table.

“So, Eren, what wine should we order tomorrow night?”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this, wow, a really long time ago and today while my beta was looking for another fic, she found this one that both of us had completely forgotten about. So thanks to my beta, Katie, for a) finding this and b) everything else.  
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
